the intolerable weight

i'm stoked about this open/collaborative art blog that we started.

Including my self, people who will be contributing are: Todd Thurow, Russell Harrison, Trevor Boddy, Paul Lazzeri,Celeste Brown, James Kellogg, Josh Dulcie, Raphael Jaramillo, Bobby Navarro, Lyle Kastrati, Raniel Paul Dantic Maxwell Hartley, Gabe Molina, Tim Chandler.

http://shartshartattack.blogspot.com/

small camera + alcohol + awkward conversation =

i just found this and i thought it was neat.
apparently at some point in time, russia had an intense market against coca cola, which is aweseome. such an anti-coca cola stance to the point of making these neat little, very well designed, calendars.

( check it )

A few years ago, a tornado hit this place.
It killed the people, left and right.
Dogs died.
Cats died.
Houses were split open,
and you could see necklaces hanging from branches of trees.
People's legs and neck bones were sticking out.
My friend found a leg on his roof.
A lot of people's fathers died, and were killed by the great tornado.
I saw a girl fly through the sky, and I looked up her skirt.
Her skull was smashed.

9 hours

kevin to preston:
"how come everyone in your band always looks so sad all the time?"
ha.

"I'll send you a love letter, straight from my heart. You know what a love letter is? It's a bullet from a fucking gun, fucker! You receive a love letter from me, and you're fucked forever! You understand, fuck? I'll send you straight to hell, fucker!"

If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance. Of how much you really want to do it. And you'll do it, despite rejection in the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods. And the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is.

i made this flyer because i want people to come to this show.




what else do you have to do with your monday evening?

after four months short of a year of sitting in my garage, my bike is finally fully functionable again, and it's amazing. i think it's repair was synchronized pretty well with the weather getting increasingly enjoyable.

lets ride bikes.

a couple days ago i was approached by BRAINSTORM with a request to draw a picture for a shirt that they could have for tour.
i just finished the design today.

lemme know what you think?
( ch-ch-check it )

so- i've slept 14 hours since saturday, that certain feeling of detatched numbness which comes from sleep deprivation has been creeping up my spine faster and faster. oh boy.

this drawing has been sitting in my sketchbook untouched for the longest time. but the meaning i had intended behind it seems to have not had such immense relevance in my life until recently. but it's been my project for the past couple sleepless nights, and it is finally complete.




i think i'm going to add color to it, it looks like needs it. going to 'acquire' some prisma colors tomorrow, and then i'll be set with something to keep me amused in the AM hours. i've had this urge to color all the things i have, but i'm 50/50 on either coloring them, or just painting them. coloring would obviously be easier, but i feel like i've been neglecting my acrylics too much lately.

I'm what everyone says and wants you to believe I am - people's lies and the truth, it all comes out. you don't know what to believe. who are you? what exhausted trend hole are you decaying in? fighting for the next ego boost? crying over your lost romance? what is it your leaving behind, where were you, what are you doing and what's next? 19 years and i've seen enough, tasting the end makes the present seem bitter. only in mirrors will i see eye to eye. the search for understanding is over, sifting through the sea of fallacies has lead nowhere. a fake parade of non-existent faces, famous for nothing. the light is on, please fasten your fingers down your throat and release. remove the spotless face and let the dirt spill onto your shoes. words used as weapons, stop at skin deep. skin deep, below cosmetic value, knee deep in the manufactured skin of aimless dolls that march the streets of a non-objective aimed society. remove your scalpel and cut across the skin, cut soul deep and remove your tag, our cosmic clocks tick louder with every passing second. decaying, every second you are closer to death then the last. make something of it or make something fake and pointless like the rest. enjoy the forbidden pleasures of life, a moon shined bordello. natural beauty trembling at the hands of the despotism. i will always see my glass as half full until the day I spill it.
the desert is dry, there are no more barriers to cross, only vast dead landscape. all I have in common has remained with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil. all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. my pain is constant and sharp. in the end natures cycle continues, human existence is nullified. we see the reasons in love for a materialistic life, living a life like that of the undead. armies and armies of numbers, holding immense strength that will remain a ghost as long as the ignorance prevails. all remain scattered about, printed, stamped and left. left to decay, left to discover the same lies, the same games. something horrible is happening inside of me and I dont know why my nightly bloodlust has overflowed into my days. I feel lethal and on the verge of frenzy, I feel my mask of sanity slipping faster with each breath.
I die right next you in the end, the only place i'm safe, in that place in my mind, in the space that you call mine.